Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Ethiopia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Fire Engines to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Intrusion. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Henry Cow,
Neu!,
John Lydon,
Gabor Szabo,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
John Foxx,
Barrington Levy,
Marshall Jefferson,
R.M.O.,
Silicon Teens,
Minny Pops,
DNA,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
the Normal,
Robert Wyatt,
Joe Smooth,
Yaz,
Black Bananas,
Tom Boy,
Nils Olav,
Ronan,
Alton Ellis,
Quando Quango,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Kayak,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ken Boothe,
Swell Maps,
Shuggie Otis,
Fugazi,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Radiohead,
Unwound,
Prince Buster,
Mandrill,
Hardrive,
Cameo,
KRS-One,
Kool Moe Dee,
Juan Atkins,
Maurizio,
Todd Terry,
The Dead C,
Funky Four + One,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
E-Dancer,
OOIOO,
Grauzone,
Boz Scaggs,
The Walker Brothers,
The Saints,
The Barracudas,
Echospace,
Delta 5,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Brand Nubian,
Make Up,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
June of 44,
Patti Smith,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Bad Manners,
One Last Wish,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.